


8 is More than Enough

by Darkorangecat (Calacious)



Series: One Shot Season [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adoption, Alternative Universe: No Magic, Angst, Community: potionssnitches, Fluff, Forging a family, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Molly dies, Pre-Series, child abuse and neglect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 06:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3109469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calacious/pseuds/Darkorangecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus hasn’t always been a happy man. He’s done bad things, hurt people and spent time in jail. As he looks back on his life, he realizes that the minute he took charge of little Harry Potter, son of the woman he loved like a sister and a man he’d learned to despise, his life changed for the better. If it wasn’t for Harry, Severus wouldn’t have the family that he does now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	8 is More than Enough

**Author's Note:**

> AU, no magic. Severus adopts Harry. Dumbledore is a social worker. McGonagall is a therapist who specializes in working with abused children. Slash - Severus Snape and Arthur Weasley end up together (it is mostly hinted at; it’s mostly about the merging of the two families -- Arthur’s large one and Severus’ small one).
> 
> Fulfills the following prompts on the challenge that I tackled for the Winter Fic Fest (One Shot Season by JAWorley): 2) Mourning 16) Fluff to the max

Very rarely can one pinpoint the exact time and day when his life is about to change for the better or the worse, because, typically, lives change in miniscule ways over the course of time, and the changes occur so gradually that they go by largely unnoticed. For Severus, however, the day that his life changed, in a big way, for the better, can be traced back to an exact time and date. 

As he considers the large brood of children that now comprises his family-- there are eight of them, and eight, Severus has decided, is more than enough -- he can’t help but look back on that fateful day, five years ago, with a certain kind of fondness, even when their youngest, the only girl, bounces in and wraps her arms around him and squeezes him with all her might. 

Kissing him on the cheek as she hurries on past him to give her father the same treatment, she calls out, “Love you, Papa.”

“Love you, too,” Severus says, and he fights the urge to wipe the wet remains of the sloppy kiss off his cheek.

The reason for all of this, Harry Potter, now Potter-Snape-Weasley, is sitting at the kitchen table, playing a game of chess with Arthur’s youngest boy, Ron. Five years ago, almost to the day, Severus had been sitting in his home, minding his own business when he’d heard the sound of a moving truck and had peered out of his window to investigate. 

He shakes his head at the memory, and follows the girl he now considers a daughter into the kitchen to join his husband. Arthur had turned out, in his own way, to be a godsend in Severus’ life. Severus had never dared to hope he’d have the kind of love that he did with the mechanic. Never thought he’d become part of a family beyond the small one he’d been building with Harry for four years before meeting the Weasleys.

It’s a little crazy to remember it all now, and thinking back on that day always makes Severus realize what a miracle it all was. What a miracle it was, and is, to have Harry in his life. Without Harry’s influence, Severus would have closed his curtains that day, and ignored the family that had moved in across the street. 

Letting Arthur slide an arm through his, Severus presses a kiss to the man’s cheek and leans against the counter to watch their boys. The oldest, Bill, Charlie, and Percy are home for the holidays, and they’re sprawled about the living room, discussing their college lives and love interests. 

The twins, George and Fred, gangly teenagers now, are conducting some kind of experiment in the basement, every now and again a loud bang reverberates throughout the house. 

Ron and Harry are the same age, the one redheaded like his siblings, the other, dark haired like his birth father. They’re almost inseparable (except for when they’re fighting, which, thankfully isn’t often), and anyone who doesn’t know the story of how Severus and Arthur met, thinks that they  are  brothers by birth. 

Ginny, their only daughter, is already on the phone with one of her friends, though she just got home from a shopping trip to the mall. She’d just recently started to engage in  girlier things like shopping, but she’d been a tomboy growing up, and is as comfortable playing football with her siblings as she is shopping for skirts with her girlfriends. 

Severus allows himself to think back to that day, a small smile playing about his lips as he watches the children play. His heart fills with warmth and joy that he’d thought he’d never feel. That he thought he didn’t deserve  to feel.

Five years ago :

Severus closes the curtain of his front window a little more vigorously than he intended, causing the rod to creak in protest. He glowers at the curtain rod as though it, rather than the large family moving in across the street, is to blame for his sour mood. By his count, there are six boys of various ages, though it looks like there is at least one set of twins; one little girl; and only one adult, that he can see, for the entire brood. 

"What's wrong, Dad?" Harry asks, barely looking up from his jigsaw puzzle. 

The boy's lying in the middle of the living room floor, propped up on his elbows, a look of intense concentration on his face that reminds Severus of the boy's mother, Lily Evans Potter. In almost every other way, the boy resembles his birth father, though, and Severus tries not to let that rankle him. It’s not jealousy that makes his blood boil whenever he’s reminded of James Potter. Severus had loved Lily, just not in that way. 

At one point in time, though, Severus had harbored feelings for the boy’s father, and they had gone largely unreciprocated. James had been a bigot and a bully, and that’s what sometimes makes it hard for Severus to look at Harry, because, Merlin help him, at those times when he’s reminded of the boy’s father, all that Severus can see is James’ hatred for him. Lately, though,  Harry’s come to resemble Lily more than he does James, and Severus thinks that maybe it’s because he’s starting to love the boy as his own.

Severus turns away from his adopted son, a twinge of sorrow and guilt stirring in his gut as he's reminded of how Harry came to be in his care. How, in a way, he was responsible for the death of Harry's parents, and the atrocities that the boy had suffered through while he’d been in the  tender care of his 'relatives'. Lily's sister, Petunia, had always been a cold-hearted bitch, but what she'd done to Harry, and had allowed her whale of a son and husband do to him, was unconscionable.

Harry turns to look at him when he doesn't answer, and it's the boy's mother's eyes staring back at him. Severus had loved Lily like a sister, and, before they’d had their falling out over Harry’s father, James, they’d been inseparable.  

Severus takes a deep breath, and musters a smile for the boy, who just turned eight five short months ago -- time, these past four years, has flown, and Severus’s heart clenches in his chest. He wishes that he’d been there for Harry earlier, that he could have spared Harry some of the heartache and pain that he encountered when he was younger. 

Harry’s small for his age, due to being kept in a state of near starvation by Petunia and Vernon Dursley for the first five years of his life, and that’s something that still bothers Severus, because he can see the results of his, and their, crimes, daily, in the boy’s short stature and the sharp planes of his face. Harry will never be broad chested and robust as James had been, nor as tall as his mother. 

The Dursleys are paying for their crimes of neglect and outright abuse of the boy, but Severus wishes that he could’ve taken revenge, for Lily, for Harry, for himself, even for James, because he knows that James, for all of his faults, loved Lily, and loved his son. Time spent in jail, and monthly support until Harry reaches the age of twenty-one, which goes directly into Harry’s college fund, is not enough recompense for what they’ve done to the boy. 

Court-ordered family therapy is part of the deal as well. Severus doubts that the family understands just how much damage they’ve caused, though, and knows, in his heart, that they’ll never truly regret any of it, because they don’t believe that what they did was wrong. He doubts that they’ll learn from their mistakes, and knows that the revenge he wishes to exact on Harry’s, Lily’s, James’, behalf won’t teach them the horrors of their ways either. They won’t learn, because they never cared, and never will. 

Petunia had always been an angry, bitter person. When they’d been children, Petunia had been jealous of her younger sister, and had hated her outright. She’d bullied and abused Lily right under their parents’ noses, and Lily had been too afraid to say anything. Severus had been there for her, had listened to her, held her while she cried, bandaged her wounds. He wishes that he’d been brave enough to say something to the Evans’, maybe they’d have put a stop to the abuse, and maybe Petunia would have gotten the help she needed to change. 

Unfortunately, what’s happened cannot be undone, and it won’t do anyone any good to live in the past. Regrets are traps, and Severus is well aware of that. 

Harry sits up and frowns. Adjusting the wire rim glasses on his face, he rests his elbows on his thighs as he gives Severus his full attention. It's a sure sign that his interest has been piqued, which means that Severus has got to find some way to distract the boy he now thinks of as his son. Not that the boy is difficult to distract or entertain. Quite the contrary, he’s a well-behaved child who can find joy in the simplest of things. It’s almost sad, but Severus remembers that Lily had been that way too, and takes comfort in the thought that Harry’s easygoing nature isn’t completely due to the abuse he’d received at the hands of the Dursleys.

Severus had taken Harry in nearly four years ago, after learning that the boy was being abused by his aunt and uncle. It had been hard at first, caring for a five year old boy who’d looked so much like James Potter that it made Severus’ heart ache and burn. James had bullied him when they’d been in school, and Severus had anticipated Harry being a rambunctious, wild child, much like James had been. Instead, Harry had been more like his mother: a dear, sweet child, with just a touch of mischievousness, which hadn’t manifested itself until he’d learned to trust Severus and that he wasn’t going to be punished for being curious. 

Severus had been clueless about how to raise a child and was certain that he'd scar the boy for life, in spite of what Harry had been put through under the  tender  care of the Dursleys. He’d almost refused to take the child, in spite of his connection with the boy’s mother, and the fact that she’d identified him as a potential adoptive parent for Harry should she and James meet an untimely death. Apparently James had agreed as well, because his signature had been on the legal paperwork, alongside Lily’s. 

Albus Dumbledore, one of the social workers who’d been tasked with the boy’s case, had encouraged Severus to take Harry in on a trial basis when he’d discovered the papers. An unconventional man, with a beard long enough for him to have to tuck into his waistband, Albus had been extremely persistent, and had not taken no for an answer. At the time, Severus had almost hated Albus. Now, though, he’s glad that the pesky social worker hadn’t backed down. 

Severus can't imagine what his life would be like without Harry in it. At the time, he’d been wallowing in self-pity and trying to drink away his regrets. He’d been terrified that he’d be just like his own father had been -- a heavy-handed, abusive drunk -- but Albus had assured him that he wouldn’t become his father. He’d claimed to have seen something good and redeemable in Severus, and insisted that Severus would give Harry the loving home that neither of them had ever had. 

"Neighbors are moving in," Severus says, after a pause, shaking himself from memories that are best left in the past. "Across the street."

Harry perks up, his eyes glittering with barely contained excitement. He clasps his hands in his lap, a sure sign that he's trying hard to keep himself under control, and to not be a nuisance.

Severus rolls his eyes, and pulls the curtains aside. Harry rushes to the window and looks out. He's careful not to press up against the window, fearful of dirtying it. The fear is a remnant of living with his relatives and Severus feels a spark of anger toward them flare up in his gut. He quickly tamps down on it, knowing that Harry will misinterpret his anger, thinking that it's aimed at him instead of his no-good relatives. 

Harry smiles, and reaches for Severus' hand. Severus wonders if the child's getting too old for that type of behavior, but he doesn't say anything. He squeezes Harry’s hand in return, and is rewarded with a smile. He knows that Harry, after all he's been through, needs that sort of reassurance every now and again. At least, according to his therapist, Minerva McGonagall, he does, and Severus is more than willing to give Harry what he needs. 

It's a large family that’s moving in across the street. So far Severus has counted six boys, three of them lanky teens, one, a boy who looks to be about Harry's age, the other two are are slightly older. There's a girl, too. She looks to be the youngest of the lot. 

He's only seen one adult -- a rather harried looking man who appears to be conducting the moving of boxes from the delivery van into the house, carrying the heaviest by himself, or with the help of the eldest children. All of them have bright, red hair that reminds Severus of Harry's mother, Lily.

He wonders where the mother of the large brood is, and turns away from the window, feeling like a neighborhood gossip. Harry turns with him, and gives him a thoughtful look. It's a look that Severus is intimately familiar with. A look that means Harry's got something on his mind, and that the boy is going to ask him to do something that's completely out of his comfort zone. 

Harry pushes him out of his comfort zone often, and Severus knows that he should be used to it by now, but he isn’t. He feels like he’s constantly being stretched, and going through emotional growing pains on an almost daily basis. Severus knows that Lily would laugh and tell him that it’s good for him. She’d be right. Albus would tell him the same, as would Minerva, who, while not his therapist, doesn’t hesitate to give him free, unsolicited consultation and advice. 

Severus holds his breath, waits for whatever it is that his son is about to say, hoping that it won't put him out too much. Harry's got a way of asking Severus for things that makes it almost impossible for him to say no to, and it's got nothing to do with Severus' memories of Harry's mother, who'd been his best friend up until she'd died, in spite of her marriage to James Potter, and her friendship with Potter’s cohorts.

James Potter, Sirius Black, now serving his tenth year of a life-sentence in prison, and Peter Pettigrew, who'd disappeared shortly after the murder of Lily and James Potter, had all bullied him terribly throughout school. They were merciless, and their torture of him, and others, had known no bounds. Teachers had looked the other way at the time, and Severus had felt hopeless and helpless.

Though he knew it wasn't completely fair to blame them, Severus felt like their bullying had driven him, at least in part, to join the gang whose leader had had a hand in killing the Potters, among many other couples, before he'd disappeared, leaving several of his followers to pay for the crimes they'd committed under his leadership. 

Severus had been found not guilty of the charges that had been lodged against him. He'd spent nearly a year in prison, though, during his arraignment and trial. A year that he'd spent in deep contemplation. A year that had changed his life, for the better, in spite of the near constant terror that he’d felt while he’d been imprisoned in Azkaban -- a prison renowned for its excellent security measures, and rumored to house the worst criminals. No one had ever escaped from Azkaban. 

"We should bring them a housewarming gift," Harry says, letting go of Severus' hand outside of the kitchen, and jarring Severus from his unpleasant memories. Prison may have ultimately changed his life for the good, but it had been far from ideal, and is still the subject of some of Severus’ nightmares. 

Severus frowns at Harry. "What do you know about housewarming gifts?" 

He’s never given a housewarming gift in his life. His father would’ve smacked his mother if she’d even mentioned the idea. But he’s not his father. Will  never be his father. 

Harry shrugs and picks at the hole in the sleeve of his shirt. He looks down at his feet, and Severus counts to ten, so that he doesn't lose his temper when he realizes that this is yet another potential abuse that can be laid at the feet of the Dursleys. He wonders if these discoveries will ever cease, and hopes that they will, because surely the influence of the Dursleys’ abuse has to have some kind of end to it. 

"Aunt Petunia always had me bake cookies and cakes, sometimes pies, or casseroles, whenever someone new moved into the neighborhood," Harry says in a quiet, strained voice. He bites his lip and looks up at Severus through the fringe of his bangs -- he'll need to get another haircut soon, his hair grows quicker than the grass Severus is always trimming.

"I just thought it would be a nice idea to, you know..." Harry trails off, his voice growing softer as he speaks, before simply petering out completely.

Severus pushes Harry's bangs out of his eyes, and smiles in reassurance. None of this comes easily to him. He's not a man who is quick to reassure others, but, with Harry, he's learned.

"That's a great idea," he says, even though he feels the exact opposite. He’d rather return to the newspaper that he’d cast aside when he’d heard the sound of the moving truck backing up. 

He'd rather have no interaction with the new neighbors, ever, but he knows that it's not fair to Harry, especially when it looks like there’s potential friends for the boy. Something that Albus and Minerva are always pushing Severus to try to encourage in Harry -- developing friendships at school, and in the neighborhood. Something that had been prohibited by the Dursleys, and discouraged through his cousin’s near constant bullying of him. Harry hadn’t even been allowed to make friends, or get to know any of the neighbors. 

"So, what should we make first?" Severus asks, forcing a smile to his lips. 

He’s become good at this. It’s almost an art, pretending to be happy when he’s not. He almost always ends up being happy anyway, once he’s worked through his own personal demons. 

He's somewhat of a whiz in the kitchen, though Harry's no slouch either, having learned to cook when he was just a toddler. It had been expected of him, a wooden spoon, or a heavy pan, wielded by his aunt, had been excellent motivation for him to learn how to cook  very  well. 

Harry’s a quick learner, and they spend a lot of time, especially on the weekends, and during Harry’s breaks from school, in the kitchen, experimenting and creating new recipes. Severus finds cooking relaxing, and, now that there’s no fear of punishment attached to it, so does Harry. It’s one thing that they have in common, and they can work for hours together, not even saying a word, yet enjoying each other’s company.

Harry gets a contemplative look on his face and starts rummaging through the cupboards, pulling out a variety of different ingredients. And then they’re cooking and baking, side-by-side, in companionable silence, broken only by suggestions and questions. 

It's nearly suppertime by the time Harry's satisfied that they've got a suitable basket of goodies as a housewarming gift for their new neighbors, and a quick peek out the window shows Severus that the moving truck is gone. The supposed man of the house is standing in the front yard, looking more than a little spent. 

There's a sad, lost look on the man's face, and Severus finds himself drawn to it, wanting to take away some of the man's sorrow. It's an odd feeling, but he's gotten used to having odd feelings, feelings in general, since he's taken Harry into his home. His short stint in prison may have changed his life for the better, but having Harry in his life has utterly transformed it. 

“Can we take it over now?” Harry asks, an eager look on his face. He’s practically bursting at the seams, and Severus hates to tell him, no, but tomorrow’s a school day and he’s not eaten dinner yet, and...Severus caves, because it’s not often that Harry asks him for anything.

“And I think we’ll have dinner out tonight,” Severus says, deciding last minute that, after all of the cooking they’ve done that day, there is no way he’s going to do any more, and he’s not in the mood for leftovers or a frozen dinner. 

Harry beams at him, and Severus knows that he’s made the right decision. Another thing the Dursleys had denied his son was the privilege of eating out with the family. They’d told him that he wasn’t a real part of their family, that he was an orphan, and a burden, and that he didn’t deserve to eat out with them. 

Severus quickly pushes those thoughts aside and helps Harry put the goodies that they’ve made into one of his old Easter baskets they’ve got hidden away in a hallway closet that’s filled with decorations for all of the holidays. He’ll have to get the Christmas decorations out soon. 

The basket that Harry chooses was a gift from Albus, who, even though he no longer has to make visits to the home, now that the adoption is finalized, has become a family friend and visits in another capacity entirely. Harry genuinely likes the older man, and Severus finds him to be good company, when he’s not meddling with his and Harry’s life, that is.

“You don’t think Uncle Albus will mind, do you?” Harry asks, hesitating before pulling the large basket off of the shelf.

“I think he’d be honored,” Severus answers truthfully. 

Albus would be delighted to know how the Easter basket he’d given Harry the first year that he’d lived with Severus was being used as a gift warming basket. Severus will have to remember to tell the man the next time that he visits. 

It’s a large, overly lavish basket, big enough to hold all that they’ve put together for the new family, and some additional treats that Harry adds from his very own stash of candy that’s left over from Halloween. Harry fusses over the placement of the food, frowning in concentration and rearranging until he likes what he sees. The big, yellow bow meets with a bit of deliberation before it finally passes muster and stays put. Severus isn’t surprised that it looks like it’s been put together by a professional when Harry’s done fussing with it. 

“There,” Harry says, and he cocks his head to the side. He gives the basket a small smile of satisfaction and, with an exclamation of,  “Oh, I almost forgot,” he rushes into the living room and comes back with a piece of construction paper, markers, glitter and glue.

Severus grimaces, but keeps his thoughts to himself. He’s become mighty handy with glitter and glue over the past four years. 

“We need to make a card,” Harry explains, and he spreads his materials out on the table.

Reluctantly, Severus sits down beside Harry and lets his son direct his part in the cardmaking. It doesn’t take long before they’ve got a sparkly, poetic ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ homemade card to add to the basket, and remnants of the sparkly stuff all over the kitchen table.

At Harry’s insistence, Severus adds their names, and phone number, stating that, “After all, we  are their neighbors, Dad. It’s only the friendly thing to do.”

“I don’t suppose that your Aunt Petunia gave out her home number as well?” Severus asks, eyebrow arched, knowing full well that Petunia had done nothing of the sort. Her neighborhood welcome was only done for show, and to give her something to gossip about. 

Harry purses his lips and shakes his head. He sighs. “No, Aunt Petunia didn’t want to appear too friendly, just friendly enough, you know, so people didn’t think she was a snob, or...or...” he scratches his head and scrunches his eyes as he tries to think of the word. 

“A pusillanimous busybody with too much time on her hands?” Severus asks, knowing full well that Harry won’t get at what he really means, and that there’s no harm in him badmouthing Harry’s aunt in this fashion, no matter what Minerva McGonagall says to the contrary. He figures he can get away with it if Harry doesn’t understand the insult, or the words that he uses. 

Harry shakes his head and shrugs. “I think she just didn’t want to be bothered, or for anyone new in the neighborhood to know about me. I got to make the baskets, but never got to help deliver them.”

“I see.” Severus has to take a deep breath to keep himself from saying anything more about Harry’s Aunt Petunia. 

The words he’s thinking of adding to his list are definitely ones that Harry’s heard before, and not words that he wants to hear slipping from Harry’s lips anytime soon. His vocabulary is another thing that’s changed since the addition of Harry in his life. It’s cleaned up considerably.

“Well, this time you get to help deliver the basket,” Severus says, putting more enthusiasm into his voice than he feels. 

“Really?” Harry’s giving him a look that’s always made Severus’ heart skip right up into his throat, and he has to clear it before he can answer.

“It was your idea in the first place,” Severus says. “Seems to me that, not only should you help deliver it, but you should be the one to ring the doorbell, and offer the new neighbors our welcome.”

Not that he’s trying to get out of having to do that himself, but Harry’s far more outgoing than he is. Though, with Harry in his life, he’s become a little more extroverted than he once was. Before Harry, the only person he’d ever opened up to was Lily. She was his only real friend, and since Harry, he’s opened his heart to Albus and Minerva.

He’s had to become more outgoing. Being a parent has forced his hand, and Severus thinks that Lily, if she was alive, would get a kick out of it. Dealing with teachers, social workers, doctors, and a whole slew of other people has forced him to be civilized, and friendly and any number of other ‘pleasant’ things he wasn’t before. It’s almost enough to drive him mad at times. Like now, walking across the street with Harry to meet the new family that’s moved into the neighborhood. 

Severus is carrying the basket, it’s much too heavy for Harry to carry on his own. He doesn’t mind though, because he can use it as a buffer between himself and the neighbors. Harry hesitates at the door, hand poised to knock, face frozen in momentary fear, which he quickly smoothes out into a look of courage and determination. 

Pride fills Severus’ heart. There was a time when he would’ve scoffed at such bald bravery, and considered it pure foolishness, but not now. Now he understands better, and has come to appreciate his son’s courage in the face of fear. He’s adopted it himself, over the years, much as he’s adopted Harry. 

Harry knocks, and then steps back from the door, shares an anxious look with Severus, and then reaches for his hand. Severus puts up a brave front, and tries not to flinch when he hears the thunder of what sounds like thousands of footsteps heading toward the door. The sound of muffled voices arguing reach their ears, and he squeezes Harry’s hand when the boy backs up another step. 

The door’s thrown open, rather exuberantly, by one of the older boys. The other children are crowded around him, and it’s a sight to behold. Severus is torn between laughter and running away with Harry while he still has the chance, friendly welcome to the neighborhood be damned. 

“Hey, let me through, c’mon Fred, George,” a boy’s voice shouts from somewhere behind the crowd, and judging by the grunting sounds and the way that the bodies part, just slightly, the kid’s jockeying his way toward a better position, no doubt using his elbows. 

Soon, a freckled face is poking through the doorway, beneath the elbow of the young man who’d opened the door. There’s a bright, tooth-gapped smile on the boy’s face, and a little smudge of dirt on his nose. 

“Hiya,” the boy says, and he manages to wriggle his way outside, and holds out a hand to Harry. 

Harry stares at the hand a little too long, and the boy’s face falls a little. Severus nudges Harry and clears his throat quietly. Harry stiffens, but reaches a hand out to the other boy, who shakes it vigorously, beaming in response.

“My name’s Ron,” the boy offers. “We just moved in.”

Severus resists the urge to roll his eyes at the obvious statement, and encourages Harry with a little prod that he hopes none of the gaggle standing in front of them sees. Harry releases his hand and moves to stand in front of him. 

Harry offers the boy a smile of his own. “I’m Harry.”

“Nice to meet you, Harry,” Ron says, and he sweeps his arm to encompass the mass of children behind him. “These are my brothers: Bill, he’s the oldest, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George, they’re twins.” He points to each brother in turn, and Harry nods as each one is introduced. 

Severus doubts that he’ll be able to remember all of their names. Not that he sees any reason to remember their names. 

The sound of a throat clearing, and a foot stomping has Ron rolling his eyes in a conspirational way, and he leans in close to Harry as another redhead pops in through the oldest boy’s elbow, and a little girl steps out on the front porch. 

“And this is my sister, Ginny. She’s the youngest, and a pain,” he whispers the last part, a little too loudly, to Harry. 

Harry stifles a giggle and looks over the little girl before he holds his hand out to her. She takes his hand and shakes it firmly, offering him a shy smile. 

“Nice to meet you,” Harry says, bowing slightly. 

He’s definitely got James’ charm , Severus thinks. 

“Ron’s just jealous ‘cause I can run faster than him,” Ginny says, and Ron rolls his eyes, elbows Harry and whispers something to the boy that Severus can’t hear. Whatever it is makes Harry laugh, hand covering his mouth, and Severus knows that he made the right decision in allowing Harry to create this basket and bring it to their new neighbors. 

It’s all a little overwhelming when the children start talking all at once, introducing themselves and trying to talk to Harry and him. Severus is more than a little thankful when a loud whistle cuts through the loud ruckus, and the man he’d seen conducting the unpacking of the truck steps forward. He offers Severus a friendly, if somewhat sad, smile.

“All right, inside the lot of you,” he orders, and, though there’s some grumbling the children obey.

Ron stays right where he is, though, and so does Ginny. “Dad, this is Harry, and that’s his Dad,” Ron says, gesturing from him to Harry. “They’re our neighbors.”

“I gathered as much, Ron,” his father says, and he holds out a hand. “Arthur Weasley.”

“Severus Snape.” The handshake is firm and Severus feels a slight tingle that he doesn’t want to examine right now. Clearly the man is, or was, married. 

“We brought a housewarming basket over,” Severus says, thrusting the large basket into the man’s hands, before he can make a fool of himself. 

“Thank you,” Arthur says, and he jerks his head in the direction of his house. “I’d invite you in, but the place is a mess right now. We’re just settling in.” 

“We can help you unpack,” Harry offers, voice filled with excitement, and then he looks up at Severus, eyes wide as he realizes that he probably shouldn’t have offered their help without consulting him first. 

Sighing, Severus nods slightly. “We’d be delighted to help,” he says through gritted teeth, and judging by the conspiratorial smile, and wink that Arthur gives him, the man has heard the reluctance in his tone of voice. 

“Can I show Harry my room, Dad?” both Ron and Ginny say at the same time, and then turn to glare at each other. Both have taken one of Harry’s hands, and he gives Severus a slightly panicked look. 

“Go on ahead, Harry, that is, if it’s okay with you, Mr. Weasley,” Severus says. 

Arthur nods, and sighs. “Call me Arthur, please. Ron and Ginny, don’t fight over Harry,” he calls after the trio as they make their way into the house, Harry wedged between them. 

“Thank you,” Severus says, though he has no idea what he’s thanking Arthur for as he follows the man into the house. Maybe it’s just seeing Harry with potential friends. 

“Sorry about the mess,” Arthur says as they make their way past boxes lining the hallway. There are more boxes in the rooms that they pass, and Severus is surprised to see that the boys are already starting to work on unpacking them, and how much progress has already been made in getting the house in order. 

“I hope you don’t mind the intrusion. We should probably have waited a few days to offer our welcome,” Severus apologizes. “Harry was just excited to meet the new neighbors. We don’t have a lot of people moving into this neighborhood.”

It isn’t a bad neighborhood nowadays. When Severus had been a kid, though, the neighborhood had definitely been one that most people avoided. It had been run down and had reeked of poverty. Now, though it’s a middle class neighborhood, and Severus has the feeling that he and Harry will soon be making more baskets to welcome new neighbors. Something that he’s not looking forward to, even if this meeting isn’t turning out to be all that bad. At least Arthur and his children are friendly, and he can hear Harry’s laughter floating down the stairs. 

“That’s okay.” Arthur waves off his apology and makes room on the kitchen counter for the basket. “We can definitely use the food. My wife...” Arthur looks away and clears his throat, and then he turns a watery smile toward Severus. “She did all of the cooking, but she ah, well, she passed away a couple of months ago. Cancer. I’m afraid that I can’t tell one of these fandangled utensils from another,” he says, holding up a spatula. 

Before the thought even registers, Severus offers to make dinner for Arthur and his family. He knows Harry will approve. Albus and Minerva would probably approve too. He can sense Lily giving him a thumbs up from beyond the grave.

Severus helps Arthur sort through the kitchen utensils, explaining what each of them is and what their use is to Arthur who seems to take all in, but laughs and tells Severus that he probably won’t remember any of it when it comes time to cook dinner. By the time the kitchen is sorted out, both men are comfortable with each other, and it feels like no time has passed at all. It feels like they’ve been friends forever, and it’s an odd feeling for Severus, one that takes him by surprise, because he’s not exactly friendly, and doesn’t typically let his guard down like he’s done with Arthur. 

“We were filing for a divorce.” Arthur clears his throat and Severus looks over at him. He’s leaning against the counter, rolling a beer between thumb and forefinger, watching Severus cook. He’s opted for a simple meal of spaghetti and meatballs, given the late hour, and the number of mouths that he’s got to feed. 

Severus nods at the odd rejoinder. They’d been talking about the local school system, and how Ron and Ginny would be enrolling in the same school that Harry was attending.

“I...ah...well, that is to say.” Arthur grows red and looks at his beer, starts to peel the label off. “I finally came to terms with the fact that I uh, I had only married Molly to make my parents happy. And she married me for the same reason. To make her own parents happy.” He licks his lips and appears to study his beer. 

Severus focuses on the meatballs, rolling the ground meat into perfect inch-sized balls, because he’s afraid that if he doesn’t, he’ll say something that he shouldn’t, and he’s not sure what Arthur’s getting at, because the man has seven children. And for a man claiming to have married a woman simply to satisfy his family, that’s a lot of children. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Arthur says, and they both glance up at the same time. 

Severus shrugs and makes a noncommittal sound, goes back to the meatballs, setting them in neat little rows on the tin foil lined baking sheet. He’s using a recipe that he and Harry have perfected. Italian sausage mixed with beef and spices, and homemade croutons to hold it all together. It’s one of Harry’s favorite meals, and comfort food for them both. 

“How can a man who’s fathered seven children be...you know...” he sighs and trails off. 

“That thought had entered my mind,” Severus admits as he adjusts the heat of the oven and puts the two pans of meatballs that he’s made into it. He hopes that there’ll be enough to feed all of the Weasleys and his own small family. 

“Molly and I had an understanding.” Arthur’s voice is quiet, and Severus looks up to find the man staring off into space, as though looking into the past. “She wanted a large family, and, well, in order for us to maintain the ruse, I gave her what she wanted,” he whispers the last part, his voice strained. 

Severus feels a pang of sympathy for the man. Wonders if he could have done something like that for Lily had she asked him. 

“I loved her, you know. She was a good friend,” Arthur says, voice a little stronger, and filled with obvious affection. 

Severus does know what it’s like to love a woman as a friend, as a sister, but nothing more and he admits as much. He starts on the sauce, frowning at the fact that he’s not able to use all fresh ingredients for their meal. He’ll have to go to the market next time he decides to cook for the Weasleys. Which, given how his heart is reacting to Arthur, might be sooner than he anticipates. And given the fact that Harry’s still happily engaged with Arthur’s children -- their voices drifting in and out of the kitchen as they unpack and play -- Severus thinks that he might be spending a lot of time in the man’s presence. 

“WIth our oldest ready to head off to college in a couple of years, and the girl that Molly wanted, we were ready to part amiably, families be damned, but then Molly was diagnosed with cancer, and I couldn’t leave her. Not like that.” Arthur’s eyes are shining with tears, and Severus places a hand on his. It’s something that he’s not used to doing with anyone other than Harry, and Lily, offering comfort, but it doesn’t feel strange, or wrong. It feels, oddly, right, and Severus’ heart twists in his chest. 

“I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this,” Arthur says, trying to brush it off with a laugh that ends as a sob. 

Arthur wipes at his eyes, and the beer totters on the counter. Feeling completely at a loss, and out of control of his own limbs, Severus pulls Arthur to his chest, and holds him, like he’d hold Harry after a bad dream, or after he’s skinned his knee. 

Arthur cries quietly, and Severus just holds him, offering him what little comfort he can, remembering how he’d felt when he’d learned of Lily’s death nearly seven years ago. He’d felt as though his heart had been ripped from his chest and trampled on, and he knows that Arthur, who’d been known Molly considerably longer than Severus had known Lily, must feel the loss of the woman even more keenly than he’d felt the loss of Lily. It’s a sobering thought. 

Severus is brought back to the present by a gentle squeeze and a rather pointed cough, and he blinks and shakes himself. Arthur has a fond look on his face, and Harry’s giving him a worried look, that he quickly schools into a look of unconcern. Severus isn’t fooled.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Arthur whispers, lips brushing against Severus’ ear.

“Nothing worth a penny,” Severus says, though, in reality the thoughts that he was thinking are worth more than a measly copper coin. They’re worth the world.


End file.
